


Catwoman's Life-Changing Night

by Evildragonlord101



Category: Catwoman (Comics)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:13:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27107026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evildragonlord101/pseuds/Evildragonlord101
Kudos: 7





	Catwoman's Life-Changing Night

Selena Kyle crouches on the edge of a rooftop, staring down and across the wide street into the window of a penthouse apartment.

Her lips curl into a smile as she peers closely at it, her sensitive eyes picking out even the smallest details. The penthouse apartment belongs to a chump named RIchard, rich and at ease, he devotes his time to his extensive art collection. This late in the day, most of the apartment is dark, most of the lights turned out, hired help gone home for the night, Richard himself out to a do.

Selena wore a dark form-fitting catsuit, long ears sprouting up from the hood pulled low over her head, the form-fitting latex pulled over her eyes to make a mask. Her red lips part slightly to permit her tongue to run across them hungrily as she stared through the windows at the treasures within.

Catwoman shifs her weight to her forward foot, and rolls forward, over the side of the building. She falls silently down the side of the skyscraper, a shadow among other shadows, lost in the constant rush and noise of Gotham City, even at night.

She reaches out with one hand, catching a handhold for an instant, then shoves off, diving further into the night. She catches another handhold for an instant, then pushes away moving faster and further toward her goal.

She leaps across the wide street below, one of the metropolis’ main thoroughfares, moving like a breath of wind, silent, invisible.

A window washer’s car looms out of the darkness before her; Catwoman twists her body, reaching for it. But a sudden downdraft catches her, the constant urban winds turning on her: her hooked claws miss the car’s handrail by inches, and she falls away into the darkness.

Curling her body, she dives head-first, her slitted eyes intent, her mind never wavering. She lashes out with one hand: her claws catch in a tiny, near-invisible crack, and her body cracks like a whip, swinging about to slam into the building, but she leans into the motion, bringing her feet up to hit the wall, she flexes and bends her knees, absorbing the impact.

She hangs for an instant, motionless in the darkness, her claws hooked through a tiny indent in the wall, barely half an inch wide. But it is enough. Bracing her body, Catwoman launches herself upward.

There aren’t many people who could keep track of the floors, moving up the outside of the building in the dark, much less find a particular apartment, but Catwoman can tell the instant she reaches the right window, the one she wanted: wedging the claws of one hand into the window frame, she reaches down to her belt with the other, searching for the right tool. Coming up with it, she has the window open in a moment, and all security disabled, and slips into the twilight within.

And then, there it is: the Feline Menace. An internationally-famous statue, wanted by many people for its beauty, willing to pay a veritable fortune to possess it. Catwoman herself pauses, staring at it, lost in the long lines and curves, the feline grace the artist rendered in such perfection it seems alive. Perhaps she might just keep it for herself; she is a great -albeit, less-well-known- collector of feline art.

She takes a step toward it, then stops, her cat senses tingling.

“Turn around!”

She freezes, then slowly turns around to see Richard standing there, a gun held absolutely steady in his hand, leveled on her. He is impeccably turned out in a dark blue suit and ascot. But more immediate to Catwoman’s interests is the heavy pistol he holds in his hand, leveled on her. Even through the suit, he clearly has an overmuscled build, his arms and legs thick and bulky in the . His nose is hooked. His narrow eyes are gray and narrowed, staring closely at her.

Catwoman has been in close scrapes before, even looking down the barrel of a gun, but with those eyes behind the gun, she very slowly raises her hands high. “Oh, dear,” she purrs. “I’ve been caught!” She languidly stretches her back, pressing her breasts out. “I hope you don’t call the cops on me!” she said with a languid smile.

His eyes narrow momentarily, then he holds something up in his hand. “Put this on,” he says, and tosses it toward her.

Catwoman instinctively catches it out of the air, and holds it up to see a red ballgag, two long dark straps stretching away from it. “What-” she gasps, shocked.

“Put it on,” Richard repeats himself, his voice low and grim.

Catwoman’s smile froze. She used her mouth for a lot of things. . . often to talk her way out of trouble, to gain a momentary advantage, a split second to get her out of situations just like this. But the barrel of Richard’s gun doesn’t waver at all. Reluctantly, she raises the big red rubber ball to her lips and opens her mouth as wide as she can, slipping it in.

“Buckle it tight,” Richard orders her; Catwoman shoots him a glare, but reluctantly obeys, pulling the long straps behind her head, the buckle jingling very distractingly to her feline mind as she pulls it tight, wedging the ball deeper into her mouth. She slides the strap through the buckle and closes it.

“Very good,” Richard says, eyeing her. “Now, what is your name?”

Catwoman stares at him in disbelief; he waited until after he forced her to gag herself to ask that? “Mhm Caw-wommph,” she says, her voice muffled and BLANKed through the gag.

Richard grins. “Didn’t get a word of that; good.” Catwoman’s cheeks flush a bright pink; that was just a test. But she has no time to reflect on that, because Richard now holds up a pair of handcuffs. “Put those on,” he says, tossing them to her.

She catches the manacles out of the air, and stares at him warily; once the handcuffs are on, she will be really helpless. But under the gun, she has no choice. She holds up her hands, and slips cuff arouond her right wrist.

“Behind your back,” her captor instructs her.

Catwoman sighs. That was her last chance. She puts her hands behind her back, and closes the second cuff around her left wrist.

He jerks the pistol meaningfully. “Turn around.”

Catwoman turns around so her back is to him so he can see the cuffs.

“Tighten them.”

Catwoman twists around to glance at him over her shoulder, but he doesn’t give her an inch. Reluctantly, she grasps first one cuff then the other, the ratchets clanking metalically as she tigthens the cuff around her wrists.

“Hold your hands out,” he orders her.

Her brows furrowed, Catwoman pushes her hands out behind her.

“Further.”

She looks over her shoulder, confused, but tries to obey, bending forward so she can raise her arms backward further.

“Bend faaar over,” Richard says, a tone in his voice that she really doesn’t like. Catwoman reluctantly bends further over, her lithe body easily bending until her face is toward the expensive carpet, her bound hands are pointed straight upward, and she can feel how her tight ass is pressed out, her thin latex costume pulled tight over her attractive curves.

Richard takes a step tward her. He looks down at her tight spandex-covered ass with a grin. “That’s good, girl,” he says.

Catwoman’s cheeks flush even darker. ‘Girl?’ Who does he think he is? Then she feels his hands grab hold of her hands, steel ratchets click as he pulls the cuffs even tighter around her wrists. “Mhmph!” she grunts, as he presses her hands up and forward, forcing her upper body down. Her eyes widen as she feels his crotch press into her ass from behind, she can feel the heat of the growing bulge in his pants press into her from behind.

“Down!” Richard orders, shoving Catwoman down.

She drops to the expensive carpet, falling onto her knees. “Mhmph!” she cries out through the gag, raising her head as Richard walks around her to stand before her, his crotch not far from her lips, stretched around the thick ballgag that fills her mouth.

He looks down at her, smiling, almost leering, the gun held loosely in his hand. He reached out with his other hand around behind her head to fumble at the buckle of the gag. Catwoman gasps as he pulls the rubber ball away. She stretches her jaw. “Please let me go,” she pleads, staring up at him.

“There is nothing you can do to stop me from turning you over to the police,” he says grimly. Then stops. “Well, there is one thing. . .” he adds, opening his pants.

“Ugh!” Catwoman grunts, jerking her head away, but her captor grabs her by the hair again and easily holds her head still as he pulls out his half-erect cock and slides it into her wide-open mouth. She grunts and moans, but the tight cuffs and his strong grip hold her helpless.

Richard sighs, smiling with pleasure as he slides his cock deep into Catwoman’s mouth. She almost gags as the thick veined shaft slides over her tongue, but if she even thought of trying to bite him, the sight of the gun still held in his other hand dissuaded her.

Fickle as ever, Catwoman feels a bit of a thrill, and grins up at him around his manhoo. She runs her tongue over his cock, sucking hard on it as the tip of his cock presses into her throat.

Richard’s smile widens, and he speeds up, pumping his cock in and out of her mouth, faster and faster, moving her head by his grip on her hair, he fucks her mouth until he shudders, then grabs her head with both hands and forces her down on the length of his shaft, forcing her face into his crotch as he cums, pouring his hot seed into her mouth. “Swallow it!” he snaps, shaking Catwoman’s head. “Swallow it all!”

Catwoman sucks hard on his cock, licking it for every drop of his cum. He draws himself out, and she tosses her head back so none could leak out. Before the taste is gone from her mouth, Richard stuffs the gag back into her mouth.

Catwoman moans and tries to shake her head, but he holds her still, forcing the rubber ball into her mouth, then pulling the straps back behind her head. Catwoman grunts in protest as Richard jerks the straps tight, buckling them together to hold the gag in place. “That oughtta hold you,” he says with a chuckle.

Catwoman pulls at the cuffs binding her arms behind her, but knows it is hopeless; Richard crouches beside her and easily lifts her up in his arms. She moans, shaking her head as he bears her away, carrying her through his lavish apartment, stopping at a clost door. “I won’t turn you over to the police,” he says, easing the door open. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t let you go.”

Catwoman stares wide-eyed at the small room revealed: it is a dungeon, with whips and paddles and chains, a small cage in one corner, a St. Andrews’ Cross against one wall. . . in all her observations, she had never realized her mark had this kinky secret to himself. She wiggles in his arms, moaning softly. She is not averse to a few whips and chains, but that doesn’t mean she wants this much!

But she has no choice inthe matter: Richard carries her easily over to the cage and slides her in. He swings the door shut, leaving her curled up into a ball inside. “Mhmph,” she moans, staring pleadingly at him.

He laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, kitty-cat,” he says jovially. “I’ll be back to play with you soon enough. But in the meantime. . .” He crosses over to a wall out of her sight.

Catwoman moans again, twisting her head around, trying to see him, but all she can hear is a click and a rattle. Then he walks back to her, and she jumps, feeling something press into her from behind. She wiggles and moans, feeling the hard tip of a long sheft pressing into her pussy through the flexible latex. “Mhm!” she grunts, trying to get him to speak to her.

A click and a loud buzzing break the air, and Catwoman jumped, wide-eyed, feeling the buzzing of a dildo pressing hard into her.

Richard walks around in front of her once more, looking down at her with a smile. “There you go,” he says, raising a hand to her face and caressing her cheek lovingly.

Catwoman stares up at him with wide eyes, her cheeks flushed, her breasts jerking with her labored breathing, the buzzing of the dildo making her excited.

Richard laughed, seeing the desperation and the mounting arousal in her eyes. “Don’t wait up!” he says, turning away. “I’ll be back late, little kitty. You can spend the time thiunking about how you’re gonna earn your freedom!”

“Mhmmmph!” Catoman moans helplessly after him, then moans again, feeling herself rising on a tide of hot buzzing pleasure. She shivers, her body straining against her bonds as she is carried to the edge of a climax.

The door slams shut on her mounting cries, and the light clicks off, leaving her to suffer in darkness through the shame and pleasure of her helpless state.


End file.
